


The Fifteenth Fantasy that Incomprehensibly Considers itself Final

by Kaoru_chibimaster



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: AU, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, I APOLOGIZE, Somewhat, ffxv crack week, this whole thing is stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-18 11:48:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14852175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaoru_chibimaster/pseuds/Kaoru_chibimaster
Summary: The Roadtrip from Hell.





	1. Caw Kids, It's General Glauca

**Author's Note:**

> On today’s episode of Kaoru Writes Weird Shit, the mod for FFXV Crack Week enables me.

Regis remembered clearly the day he’d first seen General Glauca in person. He remembered the chaos as Niflheim invaded Tenebrae. He remembered the screams as the guests of Fenestala Manor were slaughtered left and right. He remembered the sight of blood as Queen Sylva was run through with a sword. He remembered Ravus’ terrified cries for help. He remembered the sting across his back as that same sword attempted to take his life, his hands reaching for his son before they redirected towards his sword.

Pulling it out of the armiger, he turned the blade against the armored Niflheim general and felt the vibrations up his arms when it caught steel. A battle of strength ensued, General and King locking weapons as the battlefield grew slick with blood around them. Regis couldn’t afford to continue this fight, however. Not when he had children to protect. And so, pushing away, he raised a hand and sent the force of his armiger against the General, pinning him to a tree. A bird like squawk met his ears, but in the midst of the maelstrom of blades and guns he paid it no mind. He’d simply caught the man off guard.

Exactly what he needed.

Regis pulled his son from the wheelchair, supporting him with one arm while the other hand grabbed the young princess’. He had no time to double back for the prince. Not if he was going to save what he could.

He ran.

-o-

The last day Regis had seen General Glauca in person, at least alive, was the day he learned the truth.

The barrier held up between him and freedom was the only thing keeping Lunafreya and the glaive Nyx from harm, and even that was starting to fail. Just as Regis’ muscles started to fail. And then his senses. And then his life started to fade from him, bleeding out from the wound in his sternum. His vision swam, his hearing wavered. The terrified screams from the Tenebraean Princess, not so young anymore and yet still too young for her fate, were muffled from behind the magic wall. Her face was the last thing he saw.

But not the last thing he heard.

Not as General Glauca leaned in towards his ear, the numb feeling that spread through Regis sparking with sharp pain as the blade that had run him through was disturbed with the movement. A voice registered faintly to him, swimming in and out of Regis’ awareness. It spoke to him in a surprisingly high pitched voice, a mockery of the childish commercials for a fast food chain.

“Caw, King Regis. I’m Kenny Crow,” it said.

The world finally went dark then.


	2. Veggie Tales

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Regis was Aerith Gainsborough'd by Kenny Crow, now Noctis tastes nothing but vegetables. I'm making these poor Caelums suffer.

Noctis was having a horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day.

He bit into a chunk of garula steak.

It tasted like carrots.

“This is bullshit!” he finally shouted, fed up as he upended his dinner onto the glowing runes of the haven.

“Noct, don’t waste food,” Ignis sighed tiredly, rubbing a temple with shaky gloved fingers. He was exhausted, same as all of them, and it clearly showed from how he didn’t scuff Noctis’ ear for wasting food. Would’ve been too much energy.

That didn’t matter to Noctis, though. Nothing mattered. Everything tasted like vegetables and he was _miserable_.

“I just wanted a nice dinner. I just wanted a fucking steak! Why did this have to happen?!” Noctis cried out, falling out of his chair and to his knees as he raised his arms toward the heavens. Perhaps the gods themselves would answer his questions.

Perhaps they’d let his suffering end.

“It’s not that bad bro,” Prompto shrugged, taking another bite out of his own dinner.

“Seriously. Stop being a crybaby and get back in your chair,” added Gladio. His exaggerated eyeroll only exemplified the irritation the guys felt with Noctis.

But that was nothing compared to the pure vitriol Noctis felt towards the planet.

He thought he’d try to spice up one of Ignis’ recipes. That was all he wanted to do. That’s it. None of them had much spice lying around, not from what they’d collected and they didn’t really have the money to spend on ingredients when it better went toward potions…and maybe a few CDs for the car. But Noctis (and probably Prompto, the enabler) wouldn’t admit to that. Either way, they wanted to avoid bland meat for dinner, and Noctis offered trying his hand at putting his magic power into the food. It did make the energy drinks he turned into potions taste different after all, so he figured there was no harm.

Little did he know.

“It’s just one meal, Noct,” Ignis said, ending the conversation with his tone. “Eat it and it will be done with. You’ll need your strength for the ride to Lestallum, so you might as well get it out of the way.”

Grimacing, Noctis glared down at the mash of food splattered across the rock, then the left over steak on the grill, and crossed his arms petulantly. He’d be fine, he was sure. It was just the meat that night that was tainted so horribly. Tomorrow he’d pig out on a good breakfast and everything would be the way it should be.

-o-

Everything was not the way it should be.

Noctis whined pitifully as the taste of broccoli burst within his mouth.

He’d just taken a bite out of his eggs.

“It’s like eating sin and tragedy.”

Prompto snorted as he tapped away at his phone. “You’re so melodramatic it almost hurts, man.”

“Almost?”

“I’m not laughing that hard yet.”

Noctis shoved at Prompto’s shoulder and felt a tiny rush of glee flood through him when the blond whined that Noctis screwed up his high score.

“Stop being a dumbass and eat,” Gladio grouched from where he was taking the tent apart. “If you pass out in the street when we reach the city, I’m leaving your ass there.”

Defiantly placing his plate on the ground, he stood from his seat and stepped over it with his nose in the air. He was too good for that drivel…that was his fault in the first place because of course the effects of Ignis’ food last throughout the following day and Noctis just had to screw himself over by messing with it.

Gladio’s annoyed glare at the action spoke just as many words as Ignis’ annoyed quip.

“If our prince wants to starve himself, let him. We have no time to dally around here arguing, we’re leaving now. Breakfast or no.”

The last part was emphasized as Ignis stared Noctis down. It was clear from the look that Ignis wasn’t planning on mother-henning Noctis into eating, and so Noctis would go without until he pulled his head out of his ass.

Quite frankly, he liked his head just where it was. It meant he didn’t have to taste vegetables for the rest of the day.

Thus Prince Noctis Lucis Caelum, heir to the throne and King of Light, refused to eat for the rest of the day. He hadn’t pulled such a stunt since he was a small child. Right now, he was in fact acting like a small child, so he supposed that was fitting.

It did make it somewhat awkward when his stomach rumbled loudly in the middle of Iris’ recount of the fall of Insomnia though.


	3. Mascot!

It was nothing.

It _meant_ nothing.

Just a cute little ‘date’ between his sister and the prince. All they were doing was walking around Lestallum. No big deal. Gladio was totally fine with that; Noctis only had eyes for Luna anyway so it wasn’t like he’d try anything. And Iris’ crush was as cute and puppyish as he was sure it was temporary…at least, he hoped it was temporary.

Either way, their little ‘date’ was harmless as could be.

So why Gladio was tailing them both in a moogle suit, he couldn’t begin to explain.

He wasn’t even sure how it all began himself.

Despite the…odd circumstances, he’d surprisingly kept it up for about ten minutes so far. Sure, a few kids had run up to him, squealing excitedly. And okay, maybe he’d almost lost Iris and Noct more than once when he indulged those kids. Still. Neither his sister nor his friend had noticed him as he snuck around behind them, dodging behind walls and dumpsters in his attempt to stay incognito.

It was working out pretty well. For being in a moogle suit, and all.

Gladio had stal— _followed_ the ‘couple’ all the way through the marketplace, up to the powerplant and back down to the overlook, only minimally inconvenienced by the crowd as most of them gave him weird looks and stepped out of his way, and the ones that came up to him didn’t bother him for long. What really caught his interest was how happy Iris looked (despite Noct’s flippant responses, the little toad). He wondered if she was planning on confessing soon.

Gods he hoped not.

Then he’d have to spend the rest of their visit there consoling Iris with hugs and ice cream while reminding himself that it’d be a bad idea to kick Noctis’ ass for something nobody could really help. He couldn’t make the guy like his sister back, after all…

Still, he’d been in Iris’ shoes a couple of times with a number of people. Those unrequited crushes could really sucker punch somebody when they least expected it.

At the very least, Gladio was there to make sure no one was getting hurt in the long run. It was all cutesy and friendly now, and Gladio wanted it to stay that way. He figured his work was done when they started talking about heading back to the Leville.

Which was also when they turned and spotted him. Of course.

“Oh-em-gee, is that a moogle mascot? That’s so cool, I never expected to see one here!” Iris squealed, running over to Gladio with her hands clenched in front of her excitedly. She looked like a little kid in a candy shop.

Which was endearing, but Gladio wasn’t supposed to get caught. He tried not to flinch.

No, it was cool. He could work with this. The costume covered his entire body. Gods knew how, tall as he was, but the girl who handed it to him mentioned something about it being special and “suited for all”. He supposed that meant one size fit all? That logic didn’t really apply to mascot costumes, but whatever. He went along with it and now here he was.

He just had to play the game right.

Gesturing towards Noctis, specifically his pocket where Gladio knew his phone was, he grabbed his sister’s shoulder and turned her around so that they could take a picture. That was what mascots did, right? Pictures and funny poses.

He wasn’t making any funny poses.

Instead he went for something more typical: one hand still on Iris’ shoulder while the other one was raised in greeting. Noct gave him a skeptical look, but took the picture all the same. Only one, thankfully, and Iris was happy to let that be the end of it. Skipping over to Noct, she demanded that he text her the picture and Gladio used her moment of distraction to slip away. He’d have to hide out in the parking lot until they left and then hoof it back to the alley where his clothes were (hopefully) still waiting. It took a moment for both of them to realize Gladio was gone, but thankfully they didn’t make a fuss when they did. Much to Gladio’s fortune and gratitude, they started heading back to the hotel instead.

“You should be more careful,” Noctis told her, his voice slightly muffled with distance now.

“Why’s that?” Iris asked.

“I don’t see any other mascots around. You don’t know if that guy was a groper running around asking for ‘pictures’ just so he can cop a feel.”

“Noct!”

“What? I’m serious!”

“Well he didn’t do anything like that!”

Their voices faded away as they disappeared into the crowd and Gladio was left with the quiet sound of his teeth grinding irritably. Damn brat.

…He did have a point though. He’d have told Iris the same thing.

Sighing, Gladio stood from his crouched position and pulled the costume head off, glad to feel the slight breeze hit his face. It was still hot as hell and he was sweating bullets now, but at least he didn’t have to hide anymore, and most importantly he didn’t have to keep wearing—

“Gladio?”

Jumping, Gladio turned to find Ignis standing beside the Regalia, staring at him like he’d grown two heads.

“What in the world are you doing? More importantly, what in the world are you _wearing_?” he asked.

“Uh…it’s…”

Really there was no answer for this.

Ignis shook his head before Gladio could continue trying to stutter out an answer, pulling the case of ebony from out of the car (likely the reason he was there in the first place) and walking away.

“On second thought, I don’t want to know,” followed him.

That was fair.


	4. Talk Dirty to Me *saxophone noises*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so bad.

“ _Hey, Speccy_.”

Ignis raised an eyebrow as he glanced at his friends quizzically. None of them were paying him any attention.

Maybe he was just hearing things. He went back to stirring the stew he’d been working on. They’d been wrestling with seafood all day, so Ignis had made it his business to cook up the meal they’d earned.

“ _Speccy_.”

He turned towards his friends again. And, once again, none of them were looking at him. He wondered briefly if they were playing a prank on him, but none of them looked any the wiser and he knew from experience that their poker faces were not that good. Prompto especially would already look close to laughter. He turned back toward the stew. Maybe someone had just caught him tasting it and was bemoaning him putting the spoon back in the stew afterward. He’d admit it was a bad habit, one that Noctis had never really minded, but he supposed the other two might. He’d have to put a stop to that.

Already he’d chopped up a number of vegetables and spices that they’d collected along the way: Leiden potatoes and peppers, tomatoes and peas, funguars and aegir roots. The only thing he had left to add was the array of cut up seafood he’d already steamed over the fire—

“ _I know you hear me, Sexy Speccy_.”

…What?

Ignis turned towards the guys again, sure this was a prank and they’d simply practiced their poker faces beforehand. Gods know how they’d managed in the middle of a daemon infested ice cave, but that had to be it.

“ _Yeah, that’s right. Let me see more of that neck. Bet it’d look good covered in bite marks_.”

Except he could see all of them clearly, and none of the others were speaking.

“ _You should turn around fully. Let me get a view of that ass_.”

Alright. Maybe Ignis was finally losing his mind. The loss of Insomnia and the constant fighting was finally wearing him down. He was going off the deep end.

“ _I like it when you leaf through me, you know. Those fingers are_ sinful.”

Yup. Definitely losing his mind. There was only one thing he ever leafed through.

Ignis picked up his recipe book and stared at it owlishly. It was…

It was talking to him.

More than that, it was being _vulgar_.

What the actual hell.

“ _Ohhh yeah. Pick me up just like that!_ ”

“It’s happened,” Ignis mumbled to himself. “I’ve finally taken one too many hits to the noggin.”

“ _I know exactly what I wanna hit, and it ain’t your noggin_.”

Ignis frowned at his recipe book and lamented how terrible this entire situation was. Of all the times he’d been flirted with, never had the lines been that bad. And never had it been from a notebook.

“ _Why don’t you stick me in your soup, baby. I like it hot_.”

Okay, nope.

Ignis chucked the recipe book to the other side of the haven, not even caring when all three of the others stared at him in both surprise and question. He wasn’t putting up with that anymore. He was already questioning his sanity, and he didn’t need to hear his recipe book talking dirty to him. Those were horrible euphemisms anyway. What the hell did it even mean by ‘stick it in his’…

Hang on.

Just what did Ignis put in the soup?

All at once, Ignis took note of a few very odd details. For one, his skin was flushed red. Odd that he didn’t notice at first, but then he didn’t feel particularly hot. For another, his vision was slightly blurry even though his spectacles were on his face. That didn’t deter him from catching the last, very noticeable oddity. The chopped up mushrooms he’d poured into the stew were a lot more purple in color than the typical red.

Ignis grabbed at his forehead in both distress and understanding.

“Astrals, those weren’t funguars were they…”


	5. Garment Grid!

In the midst of being surrounded by bursting lava as the meteor itself seemed to fall on top of them, no one really had the frame of mind necessary to question the large red airship that suddenly appeared. When an unfamiliar voice shouted for them to hop aboard, they quickly grabbed the rope ladder that had been rolled down for them and started climbing.

It was when they were aboard the odd flying mechanical creation that they realized they’d never seen anything so odd in their lives.

That is, until they all turned their attention towards the tattooed man standing before them with his arms crossed. Quite the outlandish appearance with his colorful array of body art, his bright blond mohawk and his thug-like grimace, he looked like a gang member straight out of the Insomnian slums.

Except his pupils were swirly and suddenly, and creepily, the thought occurred to them that he might not be human.

Especially when he spoke.

“Oui eteudc ryja y mud uv hanja,” he growled. Pointing a finger towards Gladio in particular, he continued.

“Acbaleymmo oui. Ruf tyna oui myo ouin kneso ryhtc uh Yuna kynsahd knet! Oui cruimt knujam yd ran vaad eh ybumuko!”

Understandably, Gladio’s response was a confused “What?”

The strange man audibly ground his teeth.

“You!” he shouted in plain, though heavily accented, Eosian, a surprise to the group of men who otherwise thought he was a gibberish speaking space alien. “You had no right to touch Yuna’s dressphere!”

Still confused, Gladio only raised an eyebrow. “ _What??_ ”

“Hang on,” Noctis cut in. “Back up. Who’s Yuna? And more specifically, who’re _you_?”

“That’s _Lady Yuna_ to you! And who I am is none of your business! I will be the one asking the questions,” the strange, swirly eyed man harrumphed.

“What’s a dressphere?” Prompto cut in.

“Shh!” the man shushed. “I said _no more questions_!”

“Okay, but we have no idea what the hell you’re talking about so it makes sense for us to ask questions, doesn’t it,” Noctis deadpanned. This stopped the man short.

“Well…you have point. Very well, I will explain the situation _briefly_ so listen close!” The man cleared his throat then. “I am Brother. You are on Gullwing airship and we are taking back the dressphere that Yuna so graciously offered you and you so rudely neglected to return.”

Once again, the attention was on Gladio, who looked suspiciously nervous.

“Once we have it back, we will gladly drop all four of you back to the ground. Ihtancdyht?” the man continued, slipping in another word from his weird language that no one understood.

“You uh…you wouldn’t happen to mean…” Gladio started, looking more and more tense the longer he stood there. “I’m guessing this Lady Yuna is the woman with the two different colored eyes, right?”

The man… _Brother_ , nodded enthusiastically, clapping his hands together and hooting “bingo!”

“Oui kud ed! The leader of the Gullwings, Yuna, with the very…very, very beautiful green and blue eyes,” Brother cooed, a dopey smile starting to adorn his face. Gladio paid it no mind, grimacing as he gestured to Noctis.

“Hand me my bag.”

Eyebrow raised, Noctis pulled the bag in question out of his magical arsenal and tossed it to Gladio…who promptly unzipped it and pulled out a familiar looking white costume, tossing that to Brother.

Both Noctis’ and Ignis’ eyes lit up with recognition. Prompto just looked confused.

“There,” Gladio sighed. “Tell her thanks for me.”

“Oayr, oayr, cina. Femm tu. I will tell Buddy to drop you all off at Chocobo Ranch. Make yourselves comfortable until then,” Brother shrugged, turning on his heel with the costume in tow before heading off to find this ‘Buddy’. An awkward silence was left in the wake of his departure, everyone staring at Gladio while Gladio determinedly stared at the wall. Noctis was, understandably, the first to speak up.

“What the fuck, Gladio.”


	6. Brain Bleach

Cor would not speak of it.

He would not think of it.

He would not acknowledge it.

It did not happen.

It did not exist.

Therefore, there was no point in him thinking further on it. He would push it out of his mind. He hadn’t even really meant to see it, anyway. He’d only peeked over Gladio’s shoulder, curious as to what was on his phone that could have pulled a chuckle out of him in the depths of the deadliest cave in Lucis. Surrounded by daemons and the undead and on a journey to face a being most men never lived through battle with, Cor couldn’t find much anything amusing. So it was only natural that he want to know what lifted Gladio’s spirits show. It wasn’t even a conscious decision really, looking over his shoulder like that.

Gods how he wished he hadn’t.

It was like watching the world burn five times over, each time more violent and disturbing than the last. At least, that was how the inner workings of Cor’s mind felt, looking at that picture Gladio had been texted. It wasn’t really anything like that content wise. Quite the opposite, actually.

Cor still wasn’t sure where the joke was.

It was so disturbing, Cor wondered if he should’ve contacted Clarus from beyond the grave just to speak with him on the matter. Someone ought to have known that Gladio enjoyed such…things. And Cor…honestly wasn’t sure how to discipline him on that. It wasn’t illegal. Cor wasn’t sure anyone had ever thought about such a thing to even bother making a law over it. Maybe there should have been one…

It was just…

Gods…

What the fuck.

Cor cleared his throat. “Gladio…”

Gladio looked up at him, eyes still alight with humor, and grinned out an answer.

“Yeah?”

“………………”

This time, an eyebrow raised and the grin slid away. Good. Cor was growing uncomfortable with that. Cor was growing uncomfortable with this whole situation, come to think of it. Best to just forget it.

“…Nevermind.”

“What is it?” Gladio asked, his brow furrowing.

“Nothing. Don’t worry yourself. You should be focused on the task ahead.”

Instead of…whatever that was.

Gods.

“Okay…” Gladio trailed off, still obviously confused about Cor’s reaction. He dropped it though, instead taking one more peek at his phone before putting it away. Cor looked forward to reaching a point where it was no longer getting service. He really didn’t want to see anything more like it.

If anything, he’d be happy just to bleach it from his mind. Preferably with actual bleach. Maybe if he poured it in his eyes, he would erase the memory of it. That would be nice.

Yes. That would be perfect.


End file.
